


His Smile

by cosmicsleep



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8746882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicsleep/pseuds/cosmicsleep
Summary: In which Shiro is in danger and someone decides it's their job to save him. Otherwise known as Lance recounting the varying smiles he's seen on Keith's face.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going to point out the tag up there that says "Major Character Death." That is not a joke, this is not a drill. Please, if you can't handle reading something like that, don't. Your well-being is important to me. Also, the less people who hate me, the likelier it becomes that I will live through this. I'm not quite sure what possessed me to write this, but I felt so many things during this that I just...I really do hope this turned out well. Please, let me know.

He’d known it was hopeless the moment he’d made the decision to fight. The others had looked so tired, so unbearably distant with their eyes glazed in pain and bodies bent in half as they struggled to keep themselves upright. Pidge had hurt his heart the most, the way she ground her teeth in determination like if she believed hard enough, she could ignore the open wound in her side that was preventing her from moving. Hunk was holding her back from doing something that would make her injury worse, but barely anyone’s focus was actually on them. They were all too busy looking at Shiro.

     Shiro, who was crumpled on the ground at the feet of the Galran that seemed nearly impossible for them to take down. His shoulders were heaving and there was blood all over the place. It looked like this was the end, and something just snapped within him. He couldn’t let Shiro die, not like this. Someone had to do something, _he_ had to do something. This couldn’t be the end for all of them, not with so much at stake. Not with Earth at risk of being destroyed.

     So, he did the only thing he could think of. He stumbled from his place against the wall, his bayard in one hand and the other was wrapped around his side. “Hey, asshole,” he yelled. His voice was scratchy and his throat hurt, but he pushed through it. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, huh?”

     He grimaced at his own pathetic attempt at humor. Sure, he was sort of tall if he really thought about it—he’d even been told that he had legs for days, whatever that was supposed to mean. But being stuck around Shiro and Hunk—and even Allura—he’d forgotten that most people were much shorter than he. The only people shorter than him in the castle were Keith and Pidge, and he highly doubted she counted since she still had the chance to shoot up at any time. Plus, Keith wasn’t much shorter.

     He gripped his bayard tighter as the Galran paused in swinging his sword up, yellow eyes shifting to meet his. “Yeah, I’m talking to you,” Lance continued in case the Galran was thinking of ignoring him. He couldn’t let Shiro die; he couldn’t let _any_ of the other paladins die.

     “Lance…,” someone hissed from somewhere to his right, but he ignored them. He couldn’t be distracted right now, not with the Galran so close to turning on him instead.

     “Why don’t you fight someone more worthy of your power?” he prodded.

     The Galran smirked, flashing impossibly sharp teeth. Lance just barely refrained from swallowing in trepidation. “And who would that be?” the alien shot back, turning completely away from Shiro’s prone body. “You?”

     Lance’s sense of pride was short-lived before the gravity of the situation set in. The Galran was coming for him now, all focus on killing Shiro now turned on the Blue Paladin. Lance gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep eye contact. “No one else here has my kind of skill,” he replied, forcing a haughty note into his voice. That was a lie—the others were more than capable of taking the alien down, when they were in peak condition. But they had been fighting for hours now, everyone looked as if they were about to keel over and die at any moment.

     And Lance _refused_ to let that happen.

     “Cocky,” the purple fuzzball nearly _purred_. The sound drove some of the nerve out of Lance’s body and he started to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Maybe he should’ve paused for a minute and planned with the others. They were a team, after all, they were supposed to work together. But it was too late now, and Lance was still convinced that it’d been a time for action, not for planning. Not with Shiro’s life just seconds from slipping away. “I’ll enjoy breaking you,” the Galran continued, adjusting his grip on his sword before raising it before him.

     And, as Lance gripped the blaster in his hands, fingers slightly shaking, how the battle would end washed over him in an odd wave of clarity. He knew how this would play out, he knew who would be the victor. This wasn’t his fight to win, but he would damn well try.

     The fight didn’t last long, or well, it didn’t _feel_ like it lasted long. Lance wasn’t a close combat fighter—hence the blaster—but every time he’d put enough distance between him and the Galran to get a shot off, the alien would close it in a few steps and swing at him with the ferocity of fifty bears. He wasn’t sure how many more hits his bayard could take before it shattered or before his muscles gave out and he was done for. Lance was strong, but the Galran was ten times as strong and looked nowhere near tiring.

     His footing was slipping as he held the alien’s sword at bay with his blaster, inching closer to the edge of the platform. He wasn’t going to be able to hold out for much longer, his strength was sapping fast. Something needed to change, needed to happen to change the tide in his favor. But what? It seemed like there was nothing for him to do. The sword slipped further down the blaster and Lance watched it for the few seconds it took for his mind to formulate a plan.

     He turned his gaze up to meet the Galran’s, a sense of smugness flickering to life briefly at the look of surprise he found there. The alien hadn’t been expecting his sudden look of determination. He’d been expecting Lance’s look of defeat, his sense of despair as he realized it was over. And they were still there, below the surface, but Lance wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet. There was still something he could do to save his friends—his Space Family, he’d nicknamed them fondly.

     With a roar, Lance used the last of his strength to push back at the purple alien. The Galran stumbled back a couple of steps, giving him just enough time. He raised his arm and took aim, taking in a deep breath and focusing his sight on one area in particular. If he could hit that spot, the fight would be over and the other paladins would be safe. He wouldn’t need to worry. He released his breath slowly and—

     The pain was sharp but quick. He’d barely felt it when it paused and turned into more of a discomfort than agony. Then the burning started, as if his middle was on fire and it was spreading up into his lungs. The Galran grinned, obviously thinking he had won, but Lance had been expecting this. He smiled weakly and the last thing he saw on the alien’s face before he shot him between the eyes was confusion. The force of the impact sent the Galran back too many steps and Lance watched as the alien’s body toppled over itself down the stairs, coming to rest at the bottom in a heap.

     The strength gave out of Lance’s legs suddenly and he fell to his knees, jarring the sword sticking through his stomach and out his back. He gasped at the sudden pain, blood coming up his throat and spattering against the ground as he coughed. The pain subsided again as he stayed still. He stared down at the hilt of the sword with a foreign expression, almost as if he didn’t believe this was real. All he could feel was warmth as blood seeped from the edges of the wound and slowly turned the area around him red.

     “ _Lance_!” Someone was yelling his name in earnest—no, that was wrong. They were screaming his name, the sound nearly a wail. He swung his head up, dazed and not quite grasping what was happening, and his eyes met those the color of the sky on a stormy ocean beach. “No, no, no, no. Lance, _Lance_!”

     “Keith…,” was all the Blue Paladin managed before spitting up more blood. So, Keith had been here after all. Lance hadn’t been able to find him before he’d decided to try to stop the Galran from killing the Black Paladin.

     Lance could see panic and something akin to horror in the other boy’s eyes as he stared down at the hilt of the sword protruding from the Blue Paladin’s body. His hands were half raised as if he’d started to grab for the injured boy before really thinking about it and clenching them into fists in front of him. As he watched Keith’s frustrated movements, Lance couldn’t help but think that he’d never seen Keith look so lost. His lip was split and bloody, black hair a mess atop his head, and it looked like the left side of his face was starting to swell. Where had his helmet gone? God, but the look of fear in his dark grey irises was unmistakable.

     Lance wanted to reassure him, to say something that would put the Red Paladin at ease, but when he opened his mouth, nothing but more blood came out. Keith’s panic appeared to increase tenfold and Lance sighed inwardly. He didn’t want to see this expression anymore. Not on anyone, but _especially_ not Keith. Keith deserved to be happy, to only ever have a smile stretch his lips. Not a frown, never a frown.

     The Blue Paladin’s heart thumped painfully against his chest as he thought about it. He yearned so badly to see Keith smile again, like he had on that planet with the weird giant flying jellyfish that weren’t dangerous. When they’d just fooled around and watched the phoenixes fly through the three-sunned sky; or well, that’s what Lance had called them. Flaming birds that ranged from orange and red to purple and blue. He remembered reaching out to touch one, much to Keith’s dismay, both thinking he was going to get burned. It was funny, Lance thought, he was cautious when it came to battle plans, but he threw caution to the wind when he found something pretty.

     He supposed that was why he liked seeing Keith smile so much. Because the boy was pretty when he pouted or just when he wasn’t paying attention. With his lips turned slightly downward and his eyes narrowed in that serious way of his. But when he smiled? God, Lance thought he could stare at his face forever. He often thought he was dreaming when Keith directed those upturned lips and crinkled eyes in his direction. No one could be that happy looking at Lance, but somehow Keith had managed.

     He had so many different smiles, Lance remembered. The one he gave when Lance had made a stupid comment and accidentally instigated a new competition between them. The determined set to his jaw and mocking light that flashed through his eyes as they fought to prove one was better than the other. Most of their competitions were in jest, especially after their relationship developed into something more. Then they would end in light kisses, mainly instigated by Lance because he loved the light blush that spread across the shorter boy’s cheeks when he was flustered. Nothing more than a few light pecks, but he suddenly wouldn’t be able to meet Lance’s eyes and the corners of his mouth would be tilted up just the slightest bit.

     There was the time Keith had woken Lance from his sleep because his recurring nightmare had startled him so much he couldn’t go back to sleep on his own. After watching him explain the problem, hand cupping his elbow and face turned away as if embarrassed, Lance had sighed and grabbed his jacket, pushing the boy out of his room and leading him down the hallway. They’d grabbed something to drink from the kitchen and then curled up on the couch, sitting next to each other at first but not touching.

     Lance had started the ball rolling by explaining his love for swimming and water. How the sound of waves soothed his nerves when he was feeling particularly stressed and how much he’d hated it at Garrison because it was the middle of the desert. Hot, dry, and no water within a five-hundred-mile radius. Why did a place like that exist? At the sound of his incredulity, Keith’s shoulders had sagged in relief and he’d given the quietest huff of a laugh Lance had ever heard. And he’d loved it. The way his mouth had opened just the barest bit to let air out and just one corner of his mouth lifted, giving him a crooked smile. He’d loved how the small amount of happiness he was feeling had shown in his eyes—that he had somehow caused that feeling in someone else.

     They’d talked until they were both exhausted and even then, Lance had stayed up just a tad longer to watch Keith’s face while he slept. He’d fallen asleep leaning against Lance, black hair brushing against Lance’s cheek. The peace on his face had given Lance a bit of comfort, the feeling that he was capable of more than just being the comedian of the group. That people could take him seriously and trust him enough to believe him when he said things would turn out okay. When sleep finally came for him, he’d shifted both of them so that he lay with Keith on his chest, the boy’s weight almost too much. But he would endure the discomfort if it meant Keith was comfortable.

     Keith had a smile that nearly broke Lance’s heart, though, too. Lance had found him sitting on the steps leading to the castle entrance one day, watching as the sky turned orange, then salmon, and then finally dark purple as the last sun set beneath the horizon. He hadn’t heard the Blue Paladin come up and nearly jumped out of his skin when the lanky boy had sat down next to him. That had elicited a chuckle from Lance, a sound that had died in his throat as he’d really looked at the boy who had somehow taken his heart so completely. There’d been tear tracks on his cheeks, fresh tears gathering on his lids and threatening to spill over.

     After a few attempts at coaxing, Keith had finally relented and told him what was wrong. Air had escaped from between Lance’s lips in a slow rush. He hadn’t expected something so heavy, something he wasn’t entirely sure he could relate to. Hell, he knew he couldn’t actually relate to it, to the feeling of not having a family. But he’d taken a stab at trying to comfort the person he was pretty sure he was in love with, anyway. He’d known by the way Keith smiled that telling him that he had family in everyone there at the castle wasn’t quite enough to make the tired child who’d spent over a year in the desert by himself and a lifetime of ever-changing families believe that he’d had family this whole time and that they weren’t going anywhere. The watery, red eyes and pink nose had spoken volumes, his half believable smile only taking some of the edge off just how sad he looked.

     After that, Lance had put his arm around Keith’s shoulders and just held him. He couldn’t tell if he did it for the Red Paladin or himself. The absolute look of hopelessness on his face had cracked Lance’s heart more than if Keith had said he didn’t want to be in a relationship with him. At least then Lance would know that Keith felt hope that he could find someone better, someone who could make him happier than Lance did. At least then Lance would know that Keith had hope in his future. But with Keith being in pain because he felt unwanted by everything, thinking that there was something wrong with him. Lance was worried he didn’t have what it took to make Keith think otherwise, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try his best, even if it took the rest of his life.

     His eyelids felt heavy. The adrenaline from the battle was dissipating fast, leaving nothing but heavy limbs and harsh breathing. He was suddenly feeling tired, so tired. Maybe if he just took a small nap, he’d wake up and feel better. Then maybe he could find Keith again and make him feel better, make him smile that gorgeous smile that made Lance’s heart flutter almost painfully. Yeah, he decided, that sounded like a good idea. Just a few minutes…

     “No, no, Lance.” Keith’s voice was a little too loud against the quiet of the room. Hands gripped his face suddenly, fingers tangling in his hair and pressing a little too hard against his jaw. His helmet must’ve fallen off during the fight, he thought almost absently. While slightly painful, Keith’s tugging at his hair felt good, comforting. “ _Lance_ , open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me. Stay with me, Lance!”

     Lance’s eyes fluttered open again, landing on his helmet a few feet away from the two paladins. His eyes trailed slowly away from it until he met Keith’s wide, panicked expression again. “I…I’m fine,” he muttered almost out of habit, stumbling over his words a little. He tried to smile weakly, but couldn’t quite tell if he managed it.

     “You’re not fine!” Keith shouted, gripping Lance’s face harder. Tears were forming in his eyes and Lance started trying to figure out what he could say to make the Red Paladin feel better. “There’s a sword sticking out of your stomach, Lance,” he continued, voice cracking. “You’re not fine, but you will be. Just, just stay with me. I’ll make sure you end up okay.”

     Lance smiled at the false hope in his voice. They both knew this was it, death was inevitable at this point. Lance wasn’t going anywhere anymore. He wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to take Keith to the parlor shop with the best ice cream when they got back to Earth, or the promise he’d made to go on an adventure to explore the rest of the universe once they’d defeated Zarkon. He wouldn’t be able to sleep by his side anymore and help him with his nightmares or push just the right buttons to instigate another competition that Lance might have thrown just to see the large smile of victory cross the Red Paladin’s face.

     Lance’s eyebrows knitted suddenly as worry overcame him. This was it, these were his last moments. He _had_ to make them count. He licked his lips, taking in as deep of a breath as his body would allow him. “Keith…”

     Keith shook his head immediately, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Don’t,” he whispered, pressing his lips together for a second. “Don’t speak. Save your energy, we’ll talk when you’re better.”

     It took all Lance’s energy to reach up and grab onto one of Keith’s hands on his face. “No,” he said, holding tightly to his hand. He knew what he wanted to say, what he had to say before the universe so cruelly took that away from him. “Keith, I didn’t get burned.”

     Keith’s eyebrows drew down low over his eyes, confusion intermingling with his fear. At his look, Lance chuckled softly, wincing as the motion shifted the sword ever so slightly. He decided Keith’s confusion was a good thing and continued.

     “Pretty things tend to make me stupid. For some reason, I lose all common sense and throw caution to the wind when something captures my attention.” He paused. Breathing was starting to become much harder than before, his focus was almost shot. “Whereas you don’t seem to care enough about your own life, always willing to sacrifice yourself for others, I seemed to care almost too much. I guess you could say I was more level-headed in battle…”

     “Lance, what does this—?”

     “Let me finish,” he interrupted. He didn’t have much time left, he could feel it now. He needed to get this out. “You were so pretty, so above anything else I’d ever seen, I was almost afraid I’d get burned. Remember those birds we saw on that one planet? Their flames were so gorgeous, I couldn’t help myself. You almost had a heart attack.

     “They didn’t hurt, though. Their feathers—flames?—were so soft, to the point that they almost comforted me in believing that everything that seemed dangerous wasn’t nearly as bad as I made it out to be. You’re like them, y’know? You can be so fucking intimidating at times, I almost thought you hated me at first.” He paused. “I guess I wasn’t much better, though. Kept trying to keep you at arm’s length so I didn’t have to admit that I cared about you as more than a friend.

     “I’m so glad I decided to throw caution to the wind this time, though,” he whispered, eyes falling down to Keith’s lips before raising again. His energy was sapped. “A lot of the time I regret it, but not this time. You made everything worth it, you’re worth it. Keith, you’re worth _everything_. Please, don’t doubt your worth to anyone or anything. You are so, _so_ important.” Lance’s eyes were starting to fall closed again. He couldn’t keep them open any longer. “I—”

     Everything was starting to go dark, the edges of his vision turning black. His eyes closed completely. He was starting to go numb, losing the feeling in his hands. Keith’s voice sounded like it was far off, almost like Lance had been submerged in water and Keith was above the surface. As he felt his fingers slip from around Keith’s wrist, something gripped his hand tight while something else pressed against his forehead. He felt something soft brush against his eyelids before even the feeling in his face went away and guessed Keith was leaning their heads together.

     Lance wasn’t a religious man. But as everything faded, including the sound of Keith’s sobbing, he prayed to God that the boy holding onto him so desperately would get to smile again.


End file.
